Coming to Morocco, as a female, I was unsure of what to expect. Everywhere I read to be careful on the streets, always travel in groups and with males whenever possible, and to expect lots of harassment. I was never extremely concerned as I go to school in the heart of Boston and know to be street smart, but with warnings in every guide to Morocco, the worry was definitely present.
On the other hand, I also heard quite often of Moroccan hospitality. We were told by our program to expect invitations to peoples' homes for tea and couscous, and to accept if we felt it was well-intended. They told us that many Moroccans would be excited to have us here, in their country, learning (or attempting to learn) their languages.
Now that I'm here it's strange to realize both are often true. We do generally attract attention- our clothes are western, my roommate has long blonde hair, and we speak another language. Women generally return a smile if you catch them staring and the men call things. Their comments are nothing worse than those at home, and though more frequent, they're also more amusing. People tend to hear our English and shout out whatever English words they know ("Yes! Of course, of course!"; "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!"), but many times it's a good-natured "Oh! Are you tourist or students? Welcome to Morocco! Morocco welcomes you!" In very crowded places like the suq men will grab or touch, in response to which retaliation (an elbow or a curse) is expected. If the harassment is obvious, bystanders will chastise for you.
I was struck by just how welcoming and kind people are everywhere here. I expected my host family to be, but they had chosen to have Americans in their house, so hospitality was not a strange presumption. It really hit me today when I took a taxi home from school- usually I'd take a bus, but I didn't want to be late for couscous. I got in with a friend on the program who speaks French, so she communicated to him where she was going and I (in a mangled French/Darija combo) told him where I needed to go. She got out first and paid, then the taxi driver took me to the church (cathédrale, anyone?) near my house. Up till then I'd been fine, but when it came time to pay, I had no idea what he was telling me. I asked how much in Darija, he responded first in French (which I didn't understand) and then in Darija (which I also didn't understand, though should have). After not being able to communicate by holding up fingers, I just held out a palm full of 5 and 1 dirham coins. He realized what I was doing, took a 5 and three 1 dirham coins, smiled, and repeated the Darija word for 8. I thanked him in Darija and French, got out, and realized I would never have done that in a cab at home.
On the other hand, I also heard quite often of Moroccan hospitality. We were told by our program to expect invitations to peoples' homes for tea and couscous, and to accept if we felt it was well-intended. They told us that many Moroccans would be excited to have us here, in their country, learning (or attempting to learn) their languages.
Now that I'm here it's strange to realize both are often true. We do generally attract attention- our clothes are western, my roommate has long blonde hair, and we speak another language. Women generally return a smile if you catch them staring and the men call things. Their comments are nothing worse than those at home, and though more frequent, they're also more amusing. People tend to hear our English and shout out whatever English words they know ("Yes! Of course, of course!"; "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!"), but many times it's a good-natured "Oh! Are you tourist or students? Welcome to Morocco! Morocco welcomes you!" In very crowded places like the suq men will grab or touch, in response to which retaliation (an elbow or a curse) is expected. If the harassment is obvious, bystanders will chastise for you.
I was struck by just how welcoming and kind people are everywhere here. I expected my host family to be, but they had chosen to have Americans in their house, so hospitality was not a strange presumption. It really hit me today when I took a taxi home from school- usually I'd take a bus, but I didn't want to be late for couscous. I got in with a friend on the program who speaks French, so she communicated to him where she was going and I (in a mangled French/Darija combo) told him where I needed to go. She got out first and paid, then the taxi driver took me to the church (cathédrale, anyone?) near my house. Up till then I'd been fine, but when it came time to pay, I had no idea what he was telling me. I asked how much in Darija, he responded first in French (which I didn't understand) and then in Darija (which I also didn't understand, though should have). After not being able to communicate by holding up fingers, I just held out a palm full of 5 and 1 dirham coins. He realized what I was doing, took a 5 and three 1 dirham coins, smiled, and repeated the Darija word for 8. I thanked him in Darija and French, got out, and realized I would never have done that in a cab at home.
